


What Brothers Share

by Ethnee



Category: inFAMOUS: Second Son
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Family, Gen, Profanity, references to the previous games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-03 10:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethnee/pseuds/Ethnee
Summary: It turns out Delsin and Reggie may not be so different after all. And the whole "dead" thing, too. Turns out that's not as permanent as they thought. But what's a group of vengeful Conduits to do when Augustine gets off scot-free and there's still a bunch of questions left unanswered? (Hero!Delsin, set just after the end of inFAMOUS: Second Son.)Involves people and faces from previous inFAMOUS games. Get ready for it all to come full circle. Or, in other words, my attempt at making the inFAMOUS storyline and Delsin's character make a bit more sense.





	1. Blood and Water

_Reggie Rowe knew fear. He was a cop, after all. He'd been through a few tough situations. Been hit, stabbed, punched, shot. Sometimes he worried, perhaps for vanity's sake, that he'd end up with a few too many scars. But, for all his fistfights and gunfights and worries, he couldn't remember ever being afraid that he was going to die._

_And yet. Delsin's face - that terrible, pained look - hurt Reggie more than the ice crystallizing on his cheeks, more than the way his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. There was only one other time he'd seen that look on his brother's face; the day their parents died._

_As Reggie sank to the bottom of the ocean, he heard the muffled sound of explosions and screaming coming from the surface. As the water rippled above him, light shone through, the orange and yellow glow of flames and sparks. Reggie's eyes fell shut. Delsin was fighting for him. Delsin wouldn't let his death go without vengeance._

_Distantly, Reggie wondered if a person could cry underwater._

_His chest panged, and his whole body twisted in miserable agony. He opened his mouth to scream, but a cascade of bubbles rose from his lips instead. He knew he had to die, he knew it. He knew Delsin was too stubborn to let go, and he knew that if he hadn't released his brother's arm, then they'd both be trapped here, drowning and cold. He knew it was the right thing to do. But he couldn't stop screaming._

_Within his concrete shell, Reggie pulled his limbs together, curling into the fetal position as best he could as his last bubbles of air escaped him. He clutched at his clothes with freezing hands, and the further he drifted from the surface, the darker it became, until he couldn't tell when his eyes were open or not._

_And so Reggie Rowe awaited death._

 

It all happened so fast.

Augustine, fleeing before he could finish her. Him, Fetch and Eugene, ascending Augustine's tower and crashing through the window at the top. Watching her tower fall. At the time, Delsin knew he had to press the advantage, had to push onward while the fire still burned in his chest. He had to finish this before the flames turned to tears. So he did. He fought, lost, followed her, fought again, and won. And as the sun rose over Seattle that night, Delsin fell into a deep and fitful sleep.

He didn't say anything to his friends. Just got up and took a bus to the tribe. He remembered plastering on a blank, numb expression, and just walking through the Longhouse, pulling concrete from people's legs without a word. He remembered Betty's face when he healed her, and then the way she looked at him when he told her Reggie was dead. After that, when he could no longer stand the drowning waves of pity from everyone else, he said he still had business in Seattle.

Then he went back to his apartment, in Seattle, and fell asleep again.

Now he woke up to a high-risen sun, and the sounds of people walking back and forth along the sidewalk below his second-story window. He could hear Fetch and Eugene talking lowly in the other room. Life, it seems, went on, without paying attention to him in the slightest.

He stood and went to the window, watching the people and families milling about outside.  _Did they know_ _?_  he wondered.  _Did they understand?_ Could  _anyone_  understand? How could so many people go on with their lives, totally oblivious to what he'd lost and what he'd been through? Or even- even what  _they_ had lost? Did they understand the depths of their oppression? Did they know that, without him, they'd probably still be going through thumbprint checkpoints and assuring heavily armored officers that, no, their children weren't  _terrorists?_

Did they understand the cost of a normal life?

The young man stepped away from the window and laid back on the bed. At the back of his mind, he remembered that rent would be due soon. It felt comically domestic. "Yeah, I'm the smoke guy, neon guy, angel guy, and - oh right, concrete guy. I just saved America from becoming a police state under the thumb of an authoritarian militia that had everyone convinced that a terrorist attack was just around the corner. Is that five or six hundred I owe you?"

Delsin groaned softly and sat up. A hand drifted down his chest, checking the pins on his jacket. He hadn't bothered to change clothes for a few days. Just floated from place to place and bed to bed like a ghost. Probably for the best. Getting dressed, changing clothes, leaving behind the scent of saltwater and blood - it felt like a crime. It felt like choosing to leave Reggie behind, and he couldn't bear that.

Heat pressed at the back of his eyes, making his throat tighten and his fingers curl into the fabric of his jeans. His knuckles shone white as he grit his teeth, choking back tears. He couldn't cry. Could he? He didn't know why he shouldn't. Except, Fetch and Eugene were in the other room, though. He couldn't stand the thought of them coming in, seeing him like this. Seeing him cry.

He shook off his emotions, staggering to his feet and going back to the window, sight blurred by tears. Why was he here? Why had he come back to Seattle? To get away from the tribe? That couldn't be it. That couldn't be the whole reason. What was his excuse? What did he want to happen?

Then, unbidden, he thought: He wanted to see Reggie again.

A soft cry escaped his lips, muffled by the hand he jerked up to stifle it. Reggie had been all the family he had left. Not counting the tribe, but... the tribe was different. Reggie was his brother. The uptight, stoic, hardass, boring, responsible counterweight to Delsin's unconventional nature. Sometimes he swore he could punch Reggie in the face and not regret it, but they were still brothers. Despite their differences, never once had Delsin dared to imagine a life without him.

Delsin pressed his eyes tight and wiped away the small, rebellious tears that threatened to fall. He didn't want to grieve. He didn't want a funeral, he didn't want to think, he didn't want to pretend that this was the new normal and that everything was going to be fine. He couldn't deal with this. He just wanted to go to sleep. He didn't want to  _die_ , he just - he just wanted to stop existing for a while.

The more he thought, the more Delsin's heart ached. He pulled himself together and adjusted his jacket, smoothing out his expression. He'd never been very good at concealing his emotions, but maybe if he concentrated on the numbness in his chest he wouldn't have to. He emerged from his bedroom and staggered out towards the kitchen, stifling a wince as Fetch and Eugene caught sight of him.

The woman spoke first. "Hey," she offered, her voice soft. "How ya doin', D?"

"Fine," Delsin rasped.

Eugene and Fetch shared a look. "We, uh," Eugene stammered. "We l-let you sleep in."

Delsin nodded blankly, offering no verbal response. "You wanna go out today?" Fetch prodded. The pink in her hair grew a little brighter, her tense emotions making her power flicker. "Maybe go for a walk?"

"No." At last, the older man looked away and arrived at the kitchen. In the fridge, a cereal box and a carton of milk beckoned to him. He served himself a bowl of Cheerios and just stood beside the kitchen counter, staring off into space as his hand mechanically lifted his spoon to his lips.

Behind him, he heard Eugene's careful steps as the geek shuffled into the room. Without looking, Delsin knew the kid's position. Hunched over, shoulders up to his ears, hands in his pockets, trying to make himself as small as possible. "H-Hey, Delsin?"

"What."

He sensed Eugene's flinch. "I-I just, I wanted to say... or see if you were... "

_See if you were okay._ Delsin held in a sigh. "No."

He let the spoon clink against the bowl as he set the dish on the counter, the motions sounding too loud in the silent room. Eugene stayed still for a few moments. Then, without warning, he threw himself at Delsin's back, burying his face between the older man's shoulderblades and clutching his arms around Delsin's sides. Delsin turned, surprised, and lifted one arm to hug Eugene to his side.

"I'm sorry, Delsin," Eugene said, voice muffled by Delsin's jacket. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

Delsin faltered, and trembled. He turned completely and let his arms curl around the teen, hugging Eugene to him as tightly as he could. Water rose to his eyes and dampened his eyelashes. He grit his teeth and resisted the urge to sob into the hug.

Then, stepping into the doorway of the kitchen - "Ha. Gaaaaay." Fetch smirked and leaned against the doorframe, waiting for the pair to look up at her. Delsin offered a weak smile and tossed a teasing bolt of smoke her way. She didn't bother to dodge, letting the weak shot land in the wall beside her without leaving a scratch.

Eugene sniffled and pulled away, embarrassed. He removed his glasses to dry his eyes with his sleeve, and Delsin did the same, taking a breath and trying to compose himself. "You guys are awesome, you know that?" the Akomish man chuckled weakly.

"You're damn right we are, D," Fetch said, stepping to his side and placing a hand on his arm. "And we're a team, too. So don't go locking yourself in your room and ignoring us, yeah? We're here for you."

Eugene nodded quickly, eyes red but tears dried. "Y-Yeah."

Delsin swallowed, his throat tight, and took another moment to collect himself. "I know," he mumbled. "I just... I can't..."

"Y-You're not the only one who's lost people, Delsin," Eugene said, his lips pressed together and his eyes wide with sadness. "And we're not going to let you suffer alone."

Fetch regarded the teen with a smile before looking back to the other man. "Yeah."

Delsin felt another gush of heat rise behind his eyes, but this time he smiled. "Alright, fan club. Group hug time."

 

_And so Reggie Rowe awaited death._

_But the strange ache in his chest traveled down, across his arms, through his spine, sending slow but intense sparks down his body. His fingers twisted and curled, his hair standing on end and the water in his shell surrounding him, creating a small, undersea tornado. Starting slow, it went faster, and faster, blurring the darkness into a small, glowing swirl of bubbles that circled his prison at breakneck speeds._

_Then, he felt the concrete splinter and fall away from his body, and the ice that had encrusted his lips didn't feel so suffocating. He grit his teeth and climbed out of the concrete, pushing aside the crumbling shards of rock as the water swirled faster, easing the pain and cold. Now free, the darkness of the sea still blinded him, and he tossed his head around until he saw glimmers of light coming from the surface._

_Stretching his arm up as far as it would go, he aimed high, and the bubbles followed him. The watery tornado propelled him up, and the light got larger, brighter, until he broke the surface._ _Upon reaching air he took to swimming, with the water still swirling and keeping him afloat. He pushed hair back from his face, and realized the "light" he'd been seeing was really burning flames on the water, and the flickering lights that illuminated Augustine's fortress._

_Off in the distance, he heard shouting and screaming, and watched as the tossed geometric creation sitting above the ocean wavered and began to fall, sinking into the water and being absorbed into the black._ _Reggie knew he didn't have much time. Cold, and fueled by adrenaline, he turned towards the shore and the water carried him there. He kept his head down, chin tucked to his chest, too weak for tears or words or anything else. Without understanding how, he guided the water towards an area under one of the docks, hidden in shadow._

_Reggie pulled himself up and out of the waves, and the water clung to him as he did so. He felt cool tendrils of liquid pull at his jeans, and he welcomed it. He pulled the water close to him, let it sink into his jacket, let it soothe him with a sudden and otherworldly heat. His breathing, rapid and gasping, slowed. Then, moments later, he passed out._


	2. A Dream Is A Wish

"Goddammit, Delsin, hit me."

"Jesus, Fetch. Calm down. I'll... I'll get there eventually."

A mix of frustration and guilt passed over the female Conduit's face. "Yeah, D, I know, but - damn, I just want you to know how to actually fight. Not just swing chains at shit and hope for the best."

"I'd argue that approach has worked well enough so far."

"Screw you." Fetch grunted and settled back down on her feet, hands up and knuckles out. "Quit being a little bitch and hit me."

Their position on the roof of the apartment building made for a lovely view of Seattle. Or rather, what would have been a lovely view if it weren't so goddamn rainy all the time. "U-Um, Abigail-"

" _Eugene_."

"F-Fetch, sorry, um, maybe you shouldn't... yell at him?"

Delsin gestured to the gawky teen hiding in the shade, hunched over his laptop. "Yeah, see? Eugene gets me. Calm your tits, neon girl."

Fetch raised an eyebrow. "Did you just tell me to _calm_ my _tits_?"

Delsin paused. "I mean... No. No, I take it back. Just - what? You want me to punch you in the face?"

"Yes!" Fetch groaned. "D, even if you hit me, which you won't, we're both fast enough healers that we're not going to do any real damage to each other. So quit getting your panties in a twist and hit me."

Delsin made a face, holding up his hands limply in front of his chest. "You know, my family always told me never to hit girls."

Fetch made another frustrated noise, and this time a small, bony fist landed on Delsin's cheek. He shouted and staggered back, one hand flying to his face. "What the hell!" he demanded.

"Get with the program, kiddo. I guess tough love is the only thing you respond to." She took a quick step forward and landed another jab in Delsin's stomach, making him double over.

"Christ, Fetch! Stop!"

"Not until you hit me!"

Delsin's eyes narrowed. With a growl, he staggered forward, throwing a clumsy but powerful swing Fetch's way. She dodged it easily, pulling aside and using the momentum to land a strike on his exposed shoulder.

Delsin stumbled but recovered, his eyes flashing with intensity. He curled his hands into tighter fists and watched Fetch's every move, and his punches became faster and more focused, his greater strength allowing for a series of powerful moves. What Fetch lacked in brute strength she made up for in speed and precision, dodging most of his blows and landing a few painful ones of her own. For every strong strike Delsin landed, Fetch got in a jab or a strike on his joints or weak spots.

They went like this for several minutes, with it devolving from a boxing lesson into a more generalized opportunity to beat on each other. Then, Eugene shouted. "Guys! Stop!"

The pair let off a few more swings before stopping, breathing heavy. "What?" Delsin asked.

Eugene held up his laptop. "You should see this." Fetch and Delsin glanced at each other before approaching the laptop, leaning close and squinting into the screen. "This just came in," he said quietly.

" _There is a new Bioterrorist sighting in Seattle as of a few hours ago,"_ the newscaster announced. Footage of the supposed 'bioterrorist' appeared in the corner of the screen. _"This strange figure appears to be using water as their weapon of choice, and has been seen travelling through several local parks and destroying public property, sewer pipes and water mains. There have been reports of flooding, property damage, and rising tides on the beaches_."

"I really wish they wouldn't say 'bioterrorist,'" Delsin muttered. "We're Conduits."

"They'll learn, D," Fetch assured him, with a sideways, worried look. The past few days had been spent trying to get Delsin to relax, to at least have some hope for the future if they couldn't help him through his brother's death. But it seemed one word had brought back all that apathy and bitterness.

"I know." Delsin sighed. "I know."

" _It is unknown if this individual is under the protection of the 'Hero of Seattle,' or 'The Bannerman,' as he is commonly known, or if they are one of the prisoners of Curdun Cay. The prisoners, as of this time, are currently under investigation, but their release is pending."_

Footage of the scene filled the screen, the graphics enhanced slightly by a few words from Eugene. Water flooded the streets, carrying a swirling tornado of liquid down the road, sloshing over the building fronts. Behind the tornado marched security operatives armed with flamethrowers, shooting careful streams of flame at the swirling mass. In front, jets of water coaxed it away from the center of the city, and towards Curdun Cay.

It looked like the carrot and stick, with the Conduit as the donkey.

Delsin balled his hands into fists. "They're playing with him," he snarled. "They're just going to lead him to the prison, and put him in chains until they decide whether he's a person or not."

The screen zoomed in as far as the scope could possibly go, focusing on the strange, human-sized shadow at the center of the tornado. The shaky footage looked like it was being filmed from on a helicopter, but it granted a clear enough picture. A lick of fire struck the tornado and the water retracted, like a living thing. The tornado parted, ever so slightly, and the figure inside could be seen, distantly. The image was blurry, sound filled the speakers, the helicopter was turning and swaying and the figure was just a shadow in the water. But when the water parted, a face turned towards the camera.

Delsin gasped.

 

_Reggie couldn't stand it. The sun, shifted so it was staring right at him, blinding eyes made sensitive by time underwater and asleep. He jerked, and a wave of water rose to cover his face, again throwing him into blessed darkness. Reggie exhaled slowly, and attempted to lower the wave. But, like a living thing with a mind of it's own, fluid snakes crept from the wave and wrapped themselves around him. The comfort he'd found in the water last night vanished, replaced by cold fear._

_He stood upright and staggered backwards, stumbling, the water twisting and following him. It seemed caught between his conscious orders to stay away, and the sharp adrenaline thudding through him that beckoned the power to his skin. The waves began to swirl again._

" _Make it stop!" Reggie cried. His voice was eerily reminiscent of the day his own brother had received his powers. "Leave me alone!"_

_The sunlight blinded him again, shaking his resolve. The water swelled and wrapped around him, coating his body in a layer of simultaneously soothing and frightening coolness. Reggie cried out once again, pushing out his arms as if to push the water away, but it just curled around his limps._

_It never felt aggressive, never pushed itself on him. It felt like... it felt like it longed to be accepted, to be used, to cling to his skin as if it were his skin. The water swirled around him, a bubbling cyclone as he curled into the fetal position, his consciousness a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty._

_The water picked him up, and dimly he heard the sound of cars braking suddenly and people screaming, as his emotions and powers carried him off the ground, towards other homes of water. He sensed it, humming and rippling and waiting for him, begging to be commanded._

_He couldn't think, couldn't see. He felt like an animal, going by sensation and instincts alone. A baby animal at that, unused to the world and everything in it._

_He felt like an animal being hunted._

 

Fetch and Eugene stared as Delsin leapt up, yanking the laptop with him and pressing his nose to the screen, mouth open. "That was Reggie," he whispered.

"What?" the others said in unison.

"That was Reggie!" Delsin repeated, knuckles white around the computer. "That was my brother! And he's a Conduit!"

"D," Fetch said slowly. "That's not possible. You said it yourself; you watched him sink into the ocean. There's no way he could still be alive."

"Yes there is!" Delsin tossed the device aside, making Eugene yelp as he rushed to catch it. Delsin paced, hands gesticulating wildly as he ran from edge to edge of the building. "I-If Reggie was a Conduit, right, and that's him in the tornado thing- then he's got water powers! That's why he survived! He didn't drown, he escaped!"

Eugene cradled the laptop like a child, checking it for scratches. "But wouldn't he have discovered earlier?" Fetch insisted, standing and crossing her arms.

"Maybe, maybe not," Delsin replied, eyes wide and unfocused. "It takes stressful situations for someone to realize they're a Conduit, right? Unless they have it pumped into them, like with the D.U.P agents. Maybe my brother just never got scared enough for it to happen."

"He's a cop, D," Fetch said. "You think he's never been in danger before?"

"There's danger and then there's scared," Delsin shot back, raising one finger. "Sure he's been in danger before. But then, you were in danger before, too. And Eugene. And me! But it takes something special for you to really come into it, to realize the truth. Maybe that was it."

"That's a lotta' maybes." Fetch frowned dubiously.

"S-She's right, Delsin," Eugene added.

Fetch approached her friend slowly, laying a hand on his forearm. "Delsin," she murmured, "I know you don't want to admit your brother's dead. But seeing him in every Conduit that comes around is not the right way to go."

"But I'm  _not_ seeing him in every Conduit!" Delsin shouted, jerking away from the touch. Smoke swirled around his upper body, flaming and sparking in time with his erratic heartbeat. His gaze snapped to Eugene. "When was that report posted?" he asked.

Eugene swallowed. "Delsin, if you think you're going to-"

"Hell yeah I'm going to go check it out! Reggie's in that goddamn tornado, man!"

" _Delsin!_ " Fetch shouted. The roof fell silent. She sighed. "Fine. We'll go look at the guy. Maybe he's your brother, maybe he's not. If he is, I owe you a drink. If not, we save another Conduit from months in Curdun Cay, waiting until the bureaucrats decide enough is enough. Alright?"

Delsin stopped, glanced down at his feet, closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and exhaled. "Okay," he sighed. "Okay, let's go."


End file.
